Muslim Youth Musingshttp://mymonline.org
Muslim Youth MusingsSun, 14 Jun 2015 08:53:42 +0000en-UShourly1http://wordpress.org/?v=4.2.3http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/http://creativecommons.org/images/public/somerights20.gifSome Rights Reservedhttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/Girl Hyphen Humanhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MuslimYouthMusings/~3/748DtK6CMNY/
http://mymonline.org/girl-hyphen-human/#commentsSun, 14 Jun 2015 08:53:42 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5742<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/hanaa-elmi/">Hanaa</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="129" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/girl-hyphen-human-300x129.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="Girl Hyphen Human" /></div>
<p>When I was a little girl I constantly wondered what it would be like to have a double-barreled name. To have two parts of a whole anchored to me wherever I went, an Ali-Ahmed or a Willis-Cooper, a small undiscerning hyphen joining two worlds. Perhaps, on some strange level I thought it would somehow keep my parents together, that somehow a secure ink bridge linking their histories would keep my narrowed world from dissolving all around me. As I grew, I quickly realized that my dream of having a hyphen strung to my name is one that was all too real; a contested battlefield of my once oft reverie.</p>
<p>Born from a mother who astounded others with her hybridity and a father whose tongue dripped with the languages of varying lands, I was a diffident mixture of one part warrior and one part linguist. With time I realized that I too would have facets of my own being to add to my family’s verbal portrait. “She’s quite the crier” during my infant years. “She’s such a thoughtful little helper” through my preschool years. I became the “reader and animal lover” into elementary school and the “brooding worrier” throughout much of secondary. All of these varying and seemingly contrasting titles anchored me and provided me some semblance of an identity. But each passing year of my life seemed to fragment me further. Unsure of who I was or my place in the world, I began looking to others to help me &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/girl-hyphen-human/">Girl Hyphen Human</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/one-month-in/#commentsThu, 28 May 2015 04:40:07 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5727<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/jawaad-ahmad-khan/">Jawaad Ahmad Khan</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
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<p><em>I don&#8217;t know if you should forgive me.</em></p>
<p>He doesn&#8217;t dare say it out loud, but he&#8217;s thinking it. He sits on the floor next to her, leaning against the bed they bought a month ago. Her face is buried in her hands, stained with dried tears. She didn&#8217;t want things to be like this. She thought they&#8217;d be fine when they got married, that they had both moved forward. To be honest, she was more upset with herself than with him right now. She thought had left these thoughts behind, thoughts of <em>I don&#8217;t deserve anyone</em>, <em>I&#8217;m just a burden</em>, and <em>why should anybody love me?</em> She worked hard. She spent time fighting off these demons. She didn&#8217;t think they would ever come back.</p>
<p><em>Can we skip to the part where we&#8217;re both happy again?</em></p>
<p>She can&#8217;t bring herself to speak the words, but she desperately wants, needs, to get past this part of whatever&#8217;s happening right now. She feels his arm wrap around her. His eyes focused on her, seeing the pain he&#8217;s caused someone he loves. Before, he had only ever thought he was hurting himself. No one knew. He clung so long to this private sin that it never seemed to affect anyone else but him. Of course, he reached a point where he was sure it could no longer continue; he had to make a change for himself. He worked hard. He put in the time and effort to get away from it. &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/one-month-in/">One Month In</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/the-polygamy-game/#commentsThu, 02 Apr 2015 19:03:15 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5712<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/adnan-samma/">Adnan Samma</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="89" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/polygamy-game-e1428001350821-300x89.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="polygamy game" /></div>
<p style="text-align: center;">Unfair as thy fate might seem</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Through the distress of circumstances seen</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Comes hope, the mistress that does not deem</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">And faith, the wife that shall redeem</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Polygamy in the premises of the choices unkindled</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">When a man fears his decisions</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Leaving himself wrinkled</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">What does it take to convene</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Had his fear blinded the present unseen</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Had his arrogance become so keen.</p>
<h2>Explanation</h2>
<div>This poem takes an interesting twist on polygamy, personifying hope and faith to be the partners of a man buried in deep distress. The man is a believer, yet does not embrace the characteristics of a believer. Through these difficult circumstances, he questions his fate, claiming it to be unfair.</div>
<p>This is not enjoining in patience and defying Allah&#8217;s divine decree. He begins to rely on hope, which I call a mistress, because it does not bring perpetual relief. Depending solely on hope can lead to nowhere and even possible abandonment of Islam. I call faith, the wife, because it is in faith where true hope emerges through tawakkul. This is a concept of &#8216;ibadah, where tawheed uluhiyah is highlighted, the attribute of tawheed that has to do with singling out Allah for worship only, and relying on Him only.</p>
<p>I do not mean to condemn hope, because it does bring healing. I rather suggest polygamy, where the man can embrace both hope and faith, which brings him relief, patience, and increases his eman substantially. But, he is afraid to &#8216;engage in polygamy&#8217;, and rather separate hope and faith, because &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/the-polygamy-game/">The Polygamy Game</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/balancing-my-muslim-and-american-identity/#commentsThu, 02 Apr 2015 17:19:32 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5707<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/maryam-ali/">Maryam Ali</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="109" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/muslim-american-e1427995150704-300x109.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="fence barrier" /></div>
<p>My stomach clenched. Surrounded by an unpleasant stench in the gym, I froze with fear as my physical education teacher informed us that the upcoming weeks would be spent learning the salsa dance. The goal of these lessons was to understand how to interact, albeit awkwardly, at formal dance events like prom.</p>
<p>As I stood there, I imagined my mom’s look of revulsion at the activities of an “Amerikan” school system and my dad’s expression, when he learned that I would be dancing with boys. I could imagine my mother expressing her discontent with the lack of modesty in public high schools in America and her “tut-tut” of disapproval at my private desire to be a part of these school events. Later, my thoughts reverted to how my peers would react if I mentioned that I wasn’t allowed to dance with boys because of my religion. Sighing, I mustered the courage to talk to my P.E. teacher about my problem with the lesson. I stuttered while telling him that, as a Muslim, I wasn’t allowed to have close physical interactions with boys, but I promised to watch and assured him that I would learn and practice these steps while I was in the comfort of my home. I ignored his disdain and feigned sympathy for me, as I proceeded to sit alone on the bench and observe my peers frolicking on the dance floor for the rest of the week. Throughout the week, I remained dismayed at the consistent friction between &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/balancing-my-muslim-and-american-identity/">Balancing My Muslim &#038; American Identity</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/on-air-radio-islam/#commentsMon, 23 Mar 2015 17:09:32 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5696<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/fatimah-waseem/">Fatimah Waseem</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="67" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/181297_3247643_wave_l-300x67.png" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="radio waves" /></div>
<p><em>At MYM, we believe today’s writers should write to craft a better tomorrow. In line with our mission, we sat down for our first major radio interview in a segment called, “Tomorrow’s Writers Making an Impression Today.”</em></p>
<p><em>The segment was part of WCEV’s </em><a href="http://www.radioislam.com"><em>Radio Islam</em></a><em>, a Chicago-based talk show that covers news, environment, health and many other topic. Radio Islam broadcasts in America’s third largest market of 7.8 million listeners.</em></p>
<p><em>Read an abridged transcript prepared by Zara Tariq or listen to <a href="https://soundcloud.com/muslim-youth-musings/radio-islam-interview-with-mym">the live interview</a>. Meet our editor-in-chief, Fatimah Waseem, learn about what happens behinds the screen and challenge yourself to think about the future of Islamic literature. </em></p>
<h2>Abridged Transcript</h2>
<p><strong>Host: When did you find your passion for story telling? When did it happen and how did it happen?</strong></p>
<p>Fatimah: For me it happened late. I think I’m the opposite of the guest speaker you’ve already had on the show, like you mentioned. It started for me in freshman year of college when I took internship at a local newspaper, a Muslim newspaper. And I did it really just so I could have something to do over the summer and I realized that I really liked reporting, I really liked talking to people, putting together stories, and I think that’s really where my love for writing and reporting really started. Before that, not really.</p>
<p><strong>Host: Okay so you had your eyes set on medical school, you get to college, college kind of undid that. What did your parents say, </strong>&#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/on-air-radio-islam/">On Air with Radio Islam</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/i-will-not-be-gunned-down/#commentsMon, 23 Feb 2015 23:30:28 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5689<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/shaziya-barakat/">Shaziya Barkat</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="125" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/i-will-not-be-gunned-down1-300x125.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="folds of red cloth" /></div>
<p>I stood staring at myself in the mirror, carefully wrapping my headscarf around my hair. The image stared back at me, clear as water. And that purity made me cringe. I struggle against the tide every day, against the norm of society, to fully embody the image in that mirror. I knew that it would not be as simple as draping a cloth over my head, classifying me as a Muslim. Rather, it would take the reconciliation of two very different elements of nature. I didn’t truly recognize the force of the tides till bigotry recently turned into actions of hate.</p>
<p>On Tuesday, February 10, 23-year-old Deah Shaddy Barakat, his 21-year-old wife Yusor Mohammad, and her 19-year-old sister Razan Mohammad Abu-Salha were murdered near the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill campus by 46-year-old Craig Hicks. Why? Because of their Muslim identity. Just like many of us, these students were young and ambitious. They were innocent and full of dreams and passions. They had much to offer the world.</p>
<p>Thousands attended the funeral to remember the great spirits of the three victims. Deah, Razan and Yusor embodied what it meant to be compassionate, selfless and determined. They used what they had to give back to the community and to those across the world. They are and will always be a shining example for what it means to be a true Muslim. “At the end of the day,” states Sameer Abdel-Khalek, a family friend of Barakat, “It shows the light that &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/i-will-not-be-gunned-down/">I Will Not Be Gunned Down</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/painting-tomorrow/#commentsThu, 19 Feb 2015 18:18:36 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5686<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/muhtasham-sifaat/">Muhtasham Sifaat</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="110" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/painting-for-tomorrow-300x110.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="strokes of paint" /></div>
<p>It was a walk like any other on a bright Sunday morning, nearing noon. A summer walk on a dirt trail, the kind if you would stop and look up, a drop of sweat would run down from your temple as you scan the surrounding trees, seeing their patches filled by flickers of light, the sun veiled by the edges of their edges. Under the green shining so vibrantly against the blue sky, I began to wonder about a place much brighter than here.</p>
<p>In that place, I would find my father in deep thought, his frail white hair once again a spruce of black. I would sit next to him and talk about his poems. The lines would feel young and mention flowers and their likes. His word would bring a thought or a shrug &#8211; either one, it would be shaped by the molds of the stanzas and made unforgettable. There, besides the man who defined my very world, would be everlasting poetry waiting to be read.</p>
<p>It was a walk in another season. This time, a walk back home passing by dandelions, with their white manes. The fragile, wispy strands from their crowns stretched upward like fingers grasping the passing breeze. It seemed as though they longed to fly over the painting of autumn, a canvas filled with piles of fallen leaves that seemed like clouds on the ground. These clouds were in shades of auburn and orange, almost inviting one to jump into them. Besides these &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/painting-tomorrow/">Painting for Tomorrow</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/winds-of-destiny/#commentsWed, 18 Feb 2015 23:11:43 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5682<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/sanam-zaidi/">Sanam Zaidi</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="121" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/winds-of-destiny-300x121.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="birds fly into distance" /></div>
<p>Every morning I wake up with a beating heart as a reminder, but do I take heed?<br />
How do my scrolls stack up against my deeds?<br />
Constantly sucked into a vortex that is an illusion,<br />
Forgetting that this world is ephemeral, a fancy delusion.<br />
But, then I experience shortness of breath and it&#8217;s difficult to breathe.<br />
Suddenly life&#8217;s purpose comes rushing back to me.<br />
Praying, fasting, Quran and dhikr,<br />
Heading toward Jannah is a race and I want to be quicker.<br />
I excel in deeds, those mandated and obligatory,</p>
<p>But, wait I&#8217;ve heard this before, it&#8217;s the same sad story.<br />
Get an iman rush and fly, going higher than before,<br />
Only to fall just as hard on the same scarred floor.<br />
I’m so caught up in the world&#8217;s disillusion and dreams;<br />
Failing to recognize I’m just a pebble in a stream.<br />
And this stream is headed towards dark, torrential water,<br />
There is no success; on this path I will only falter.<br />
The stream empties into a vast ocean of despair,<br />
I sink lower and lower, with no oxygen, no air.<br />
Drowning in my sins, their weight dragging me to the ocean floor.<br />
I lay there lifeless, thinking, &#8220;Man, there has to be more.&#8221;<br />
Tired of the arguments, tired of telling lies,<br />
I just want to do the right thing, stop living a disillusioned life.<br />
Too stubborn or too ashamed? Who knows why I didn&#8217;t call,<br />
But He already heard me, for He is the one Who knows all.<br />
I thought &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/winds-of-destiny/">Winds of Destiny</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/celestial-body/#commentsMon, 09 Feb 2015 02:44:05 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5674<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/zaheen-uddin/">Zaheen Uddin</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="124" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/celestial-body-300x124.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="image of universe" /></div>
<p>Her face shines brilliantly bright<br />
Especially when she preludes the night<br />
When the breaths of dawn will soon<br />
Show their luminescence to loom<br />
At the end of dawn is the beginning of day<br />
That’s when she shows her beautiful face<br />
Like a sea of tranquility over an ocean of bloom<br />
She reveals herself in the color of blue<br />
You see her face that color, deep and intense<br />
Sometimes you see her perfection covered by dense<br />
Fluffiness like rises from her bright face<br />
White birthmarks that swim from place to place<br />
Dark hair spots her green and brown womb<br />
Pregnant with death brought by life’s doom<br />
And places on her body are golden and hot</p>
<p>While others are cold, white as she cries dots<br />
Due to her makeup running, frozen fragments fall<br />
Her white make-up’s tears drop on her tall<br />
Tanned body making the whiteness hover<br />
Select spots where her truth is blanketed under<br />
The same form of matter that makes up her tears<br />
Life giving drops to her body so clear<br />
She feels for us thus she cries out of mercy<br />
And granted is our wish for those who are worthy<br />
By the One who created her, subject to us<br />
A means for us to reside in for indeed we must<br />
To survive and hide in her skin of strength<br />
Giving us protection for a great length<br />
But don’t get her angry for indeed she is fierce<br />
When her blood boils and bursts out to pierce<br />
Out of her hard &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/celestial-body/">Celestial Body</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/whoismuhammad/#commentsFri, 30 Jan 2015 18:00:58 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5660<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/mym-staff/">MYM Staff</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
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<p>Spurred by the tragic terror attacks in Paris, Muslims took to social media in January to positively reclaim the image of the Prophet Muhammad. Using the hashtag #WhoIsMuhammad, people from around the world recast what they knew of him: a loving husband who took care of his family; a kind leader who guided his people towards good; a bashful, understanding friend touched modesty upon those around him; an orphan, as human as anyone could be, who became an beacon for us to be inspired by.</p>
<p>He is loved by his followers more than they love themselves and all that they have. Will you join us to learn about who he is?</p>
<h2> <strong><span style="text-decoration: underline;">An Epitome of Modesty, by <a href="http://mymonline.org/author/abd-al-baasit-khan/">Abd Al-Baasit Khan</a></span></strong></h2>
<p>Narrated to be “more bashful than a veiled virgin girl” and “neither uncouth, nor one who shouted in the streets,” the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was well known by all for his modesty (Bukhari). Even before Prophethood, when he helped with rebuilding the Ka’bah, he would fall to the ground unconscious whenever he attempted to copy those around him and lifted his garment to carry stones. When asked what’s wrong, he replied, “I was stopped from being naked.”</p>
<p>He had much in common with Moses, who was similarly described to be “a modest person whose skin was never seen due to his shyness” (Bukhari). He was so shy that he wouldn’t even ask guests who overstayed their welcome to leave, prompting revelation on the matter. When a slave girl once rudely demanded he give &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/whoismuhammad/">#WhoIsMuhammad</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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